I sit on the tatami and
look out the window. Sometimes I see a great deal, the birds chirping in the trees,
the early morning dew on the grass. There are days when I see fire and rain,
the sun peeking through the blinds on to the wooden floor in front of me and
slowly drifting from one side of the room to the other, the moonlight making
pictures on the walls. I watch the cars and trucks pass with their white and
red lights. I often think I can see everything from here to Tokyo. Then other
times I am reminded I see nothing.
